


Going Home

by Elvendork



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-04
Updated: 2012-11-04
Packaged: 2017-11-17 23:21:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/554319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elvendork/pseuds/Elvendork
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock returns to London and receives some unwelcome advice from his brother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Going Home

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be a 221B, but it just got too long. I almost made it a full-length reuinion story - and I still might, but for now this is just a scene that got stuck in my head and I thought I would share it ...

Sherlock paces in front of Mycroft, who is seated with infuriating calm in one of the vast leather armchairs in the Strangers’ Room of the Diogenes Club, and has to work to keep from shouting.

‘You can’t stop me,’ he says eventually, spitting the words out with as much venom as he can muster. Mycroft raises a delicate eyebrow.

‘Then by all means, go ahead,’ he replies, ‘go, and see how long it takes for me to be proven right.’

‘Moriarty’s organisation is finished,’ Sherlock repeats for what must be the third or fourth time. It sounds almost like a question.

‘It is,’ Mycroft agrees easily, inclining his head in acknowledgement.

‘They are safe now.’ Neither Holmes is sure who he is trying to convince with this statement. Sherlock tries to believe it; Mycroft steadfastly refuses to.

‘Are they?’

‘I’ve spent the last three years tearing apart his web piece by piece and there is nothing left,’ Sherlock snaps, ‘Moran was the last. They’re safe.’

‘Was he? The last person who will ever threaten them, ever think to influence you by targeting them? You think that Moriarty was the only one who will ever realise the only way to control you, or revenge themselves upon you, is through them?’

‘Moriarty is dead; every last one of his organisation is either dead or behind bars. I am alive; John, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade are alive – don’t you think that should be something of a warning to anyone who thinks to try the same methods?’

There is silence for a moment, and Sherlock stops pacing to finally look up at his brother. Mycroft’s expression is unchanged.

‘Can you be sure?’ he asks quietly. ‘Can you _guarantee it_ , Sherlock? That you will always be able to save them? Is it worth the risk? You are being selfish and sentimental, and your friends will suffer for it.’

Sherlock opens his mouth to argue; he has a thousand assurances to give, a hundred perfectly rational justifications for why they, and he, will be better off if he returns. In the end though, all he says is ‘I don’t care.’ And he doesn’t, not anymore, not when everything he has done for the last three years has been leading up to this point and he can’t stop now. He can’t turn away because he doesn’t think he could stand it. He is back in London and it has been too long; he never would have thought it would be a relief to breathe the City air again, but oh _God_ it is. He wants to see John again, and Mrs Hudson, Lestrade, and Molly – he wants to be back in his flat, _their_ flat, their home – and he knows it is sentiment, he knows and he no longer cares, because he doesn’t have the energy to fight it anymore. He is tired, restless and angry, and he just wants to go _home_.

‘Of course you do,’ Mycroft sighs. Now he looks disappointed, as though Sherlock has fallen short of his expectations somehow. Sherlock finds he has never cared less about his brother's opinion than right now, and that is saying something. Mycroft pinches the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger and shakes his head. ‘Well, don’t say I didn’t warn you.’

By the time he looks back up, Sherlock has already left. Mycroft only hopes, just this once, that he is wrong.


End file.
